As I’ve mentioned before, upon first touring our house, I did not look at having a third floor with two extra bedrooms as an advantage, but actually as a deterrent. The bannister-less staircase was scary, the rooms had low ceilings with sharp plaster. I honestly remember telling the realtor that I wished the house had stopped at floor 2. But then…
But then I figured it out. And we worked on the hallway, built a bannister, replaced the carpeting and we had a real, useable third floor with two extra bedrooms. More than that, we had a playroom.
Why don’t I give you a tour. Follow me up the stairs. At the top you might notice a window seat we built. This was not just a design detail, this was actually to hide the piping used to add the High Efficiency Air Conditioning system we put in before moving in. But it’s pretty!
And here is the hallway. See? The once scary plaster walls are much improved with a coat of Benjamin Moore White Dove. And I replaced the old fixture with a low hanging crystal ball from Pottery Barn teen.
My cousins contributed greatly to this room’s decor; lining the hall to the playroom, they gave us our “artwork”; One a beautiful Wizard of Oz, the other a framed Porsche poster with the license plate Fox.
The window seat above was built for the same purpose of hiding air conditioning ducts, but has become a great addition to the room. Much of this decor was given to my daughter by my cousin, as she has outgrown things like her peace sign PB Teen chest and dress up trunk. The silk pillows on the window seat are pretty spectacular; my next door neighbor down the shore had bought them for hundreds of dollars each, hand painted, at a fancy department store; she later sold them to me for 20 bucks a pop.
Above is our dress up corner. You might not be able to tell, but at least 20 different princess dresses and tutus are stuffed into that cubby. On top is a container of “kid makeup” and a child-sized mirror.
Here is our kitchen corner. It’s where we get domestic up in here. And the giraffe has a very interesting, and beautiful story. His name is Dr. Nelson. That also happens to be the name of my daughter’s eye doctor. If you ever want to read about that whole journey, let me know. There’s a lot to share.
And a trampoline from my husband’s parents. It’s pretty sweet. So here it is; our playroom, otherwise known as the reason why we do not have toys strewn about the rest of our house. It is a godsend to me, and a cozy little sanctuary for my daughter, and one day, for my son.
But the best part of the playroom is the things that I can not picture, or even articulate; it is the stories that are created in the games up there; the history that lives in that dress up trunk or karaoke machine or toy trunk from days past; it is what I see my children building together in the future. It is imagination. It is wonder. It is play.